


Lover I Don't Have to Love

by Mistaken_exchange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Thoughts, Drunk Sam, Drunk Sex, First Time, Karaoke, M/M, No Dialogue, Smut, Sober Dean, Song fic, Stanford Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-29
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-03-20 03:05:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3634290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistaken_exchange/pseuds/Mistaken_exchange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean goes to check on Sam in Stanford before the series, only to trail him to a bar and get an unexpected show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lover I Don't Have to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Wanted to try a fic with no dialogue hope it's okay! Not beta'd, sorry about that, don't have one, any mistakes or OOC is totally my fault and unintentional.

After finishing a standard Salt and Burn, Dean found himself sitting hunched down in the dark corner of an even dimmer bar in California. He didn't mean to follow Sam here, but he did, he just wanted to check on him, to see his brother again. As if like it was an afterthought, Dean pulled down the brim of a ball cap he had found underneath the seats of the Impala to try to obscure his face. Though he wasn't sure if it would enough to shield him from his brother's eyes. But, fortunately Sam was more than a little drunk as he draped his arms around a friend and laughed with the table he stood around. Dean could pick his laugh out of the crowded room, even though his voice was hazy from the cigarettes that had been smoked in the bar. Sam’s trapped friend mentioned something then pointed to the stage with a laugh and a shove. Dean tilted his head to get a better look as he subconsciously fingered the amulet around his neck. Sam laughed, his face flushed from drinking but took the challenge and took a step to the stage and clambered up, only slightly off balanced and Dean forced down the almost physical need to go save his little brother before he hurt himself. But then Sam was standing on the stage, standing tall for a moment before leaning heavily on the microphone as if to get the room to stop spinning. Seemingly successful he leaned over to mutter to the DJ who rolled his eyes but compiled with Sam's request.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows in thought before shaking his head then stood, he should leave. This Sam was not his, he had no right to be here and Dad was going to kill him for even coming, much less for doing so without permission while he was supposed to be on a hunt, even if he had finished it. He turned to head to the door just as Sam's drink-rough voice cooed into the microphone. _"I picked you out of a crowd and talked to you."_ He shifted his weight, pushing more of it onto the microphone stand, his hair coming down to fan across his cheek. Dean paused and turned back to watch, curious because he had never quite heard his brother sound so predatory, his voice sharp with lust, gravely from the smoke and the booze smoothing his nerves. All quiet confidence. Dean almost couldn’t help himself as he moved to sit in the nearest seat and almost in another bar patron's lap before getting shaken back to his senses by the lady making an alarmed squeak. He muttered what could have been an apology but truthfully he couldn’t, wouldn’t focus on that, eyes only on the man on the stage. Sam rocked on the microphone stand, flipping his head back to brush the hair from his face. _"Said I liked your shoes, you said thanks can I follow you? So it's up the stairs and out of view, no prying eyes."_ He opened his eyes, skimming the crowd when he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck and almost immediately locked eyes with the mesmerized green he'd known all his life. _"I poured some wine, I asked your name you asked the time, now it's two o'clock,"_ His pink tongue darted out to wet his lips, he flushed deeper but he didn't stop as his voice dropped an octave and a lusty grin pulled at his lips as he kept his eyes locked on his brother's. _"The club is closed we're up the block, your hands on me, I'm pressing hard against your jeans. Your tongue in my mouth trying to keep the words from coming out."_ Sam ran his hand down the front of his jeans and the ladies and even some of the men in the bar cheered. Dean felt a tide of misplaced jealousy but couldn't stop looking at him, this man who was practically a stranger to him now and yet still his brother. He could feel himself stiffing in his jeans and knew he was going to hell for the images in his head. But knowing and caring were two different things, especially when Sammy was still watching him and singing in that lust roughened voice that he'd never heard before. A small exhale of breath, that could have been a moan from the touching himself escaped into the microphone then into the bar. Dean licked his lips and took off the cap, as if Sam didn't know who he was with it on. _"You didn't care to know, who else may have been you before, I want a lover I don't have to love."_ Rationally, Dean knew Sam had girls before, maybe even men, knew it but his brother belonged to him and he felt that little tug of possessiveness again. Sam trailed his hand down the microphone base, his body swaying a little, the combination of nerve, lust, alcohol and the unexpected appearance of his brother had made him unsteady on his feet. Without thinking Dean crossed the room in case his brother might fall, his arms already reaching out but to his surprise Sam stayed on the stage only dragging the microphone stand between his legs.

This close to the stage he could see the obvious bulge in Sam's jeans and almost unconsciously reached out to adjust himself. Sam's voice entered his head again, positively obscene in octave and in body language, not that the patrons of the bar minded, many were quite happy for the show.  _"Let's just keep touching, let's just keep keep singing, I want a lover I don't have to love, I want a boy who's so drunk he doesn't talk_. _"_ Sam tracked his brother with his eyes a hand reaching up to pull the hair away from his face, displaying the long pale expense of his neck. Dean couldn't help it, he licked his lips again, almost dizzy with the idea of sucking deep marks onto the skin there, marks that would claim him as his long after he was back on the road, California and the sin of wanting his little brother far behind him. He got lost in the images in his head and his dick throbbed hard against the zipper of his jeans, a small sound escaping his lips to a loud round of applause as the song ended, the sound forcing him back down to Earth just in time to see Sam scrambled off the stage and almost right into him. Sam reached out to brace his hand against the chest of his sibling, Dean smirked at the man, flushed and slightly out of breath before settling on the lust darkened eyes of his brother, he licked his lips again and noticed with satisfaction that Sammy was watching the movement.  He reached out to grip Sam's wrist, gave it a tug as he turned to make his way to exit. Sam's friends curious, though forgotten for the time, as Sam stumbled after him, trying not to trip on his feet in his own excitement.

Across the street was a run-down sort of motel they had spent most of their lives in, Dean had already rented a room earlier, though this wasn't what he had in mind when he checked in. As they half ran, half stumbled down the halls to room 210, Dean kept a firm hold on the wrist he had grasped, as if afraid Sam would leave if he let him go. He fumbled for the keys, unlocking the door and almost slamming it open in his haste to get inside. In the silence of the room, he turned to look at his brother, hued in shades of green and red from the lights outside and he knew right then he had never seen anything so beautiful. He banished the thought as he slammed Sam against the door, capturing his mouth in a kiss that was more teeth than lips, lust making him sloppy and uncaring but Sam met him with just as much force. He captured Dean's bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, unconcerned about the taste of copper in his mouth, the sound that escaped the both of them was primal. Dean pinned his brother's hands above his head, with a little effort, Sam had crouched down a little to make kissing him easier, as his other hand began putting fabric up his lean chest. Sam gasped as the elder brother brushed feverish skin, his head slamming back against the door but he didn't seem to notice the pain as Dean rubbed a nipple between his fingers. He broke the kiss to gasp and Dean took that as his opportunity to push the shirt up to his chin and claim his clavicle in a vicious bite, sucking the skin purple, his own blood from his lip decorating the edges of the bruise.

Sam was trying to shake his hands free but Dean was letting him go to slide both hands down the slim waist of the man in front of him, settling on his hips as he pulled him forward to crush him against his own body before twirling them around, then flinging Sam down on the bed, strong arms shot out and grabbed Dean making them both fall hard on the bed. Dean grabbed the shirt Sam still wore and ripped it off his brother's form, he didn't seem to be concerned about the destroyed fabric, couldn't be as Sam bucked up to brush their jean clad erections together. Dean sucked in a breath and looked down at the flushed face under him, the long hair that framed his face had gotten sweaty and was sticking in random places on his flesh, Dean smiled wolfishly down at him, only to have it wiped from his face as Sam bucked up again desperate for friction. He shrugged off his jacket and flung it off the bed, followed by his own shirt. He opened his mouth to say something, to comment about how they should stop but as if Sam could sense it, he reached up to drag Dean's mouth back to his own, crushing their lips together again. If anything Dean could take the hint and reached between them to start unbuckling belts and popping buttons on jeans, he rose his hips up to slide down his jeans just as Sam raise up to brush his freed dick against the one above him. A sound got caught in Dean's throat that sounded dangerously like a sob. He bowed his head to suck another mark on Sam's neck.

Impatient from the booze and slow progress, Sam caught Dean's shoulders then rolled them, taking them close to the edge of the bed, so he could scramble out of his jeans as well as finish removing Dean's. They were pressed chest to chest, slick with sweat as Sam reached between them to wrap his hand around Dean and himself, jerking his hips and trying to find a rhythm in his lust. Small noises were working themselves from Sam's mouth and all of them were heading straight for Dean's cock which throbbed against this new onslaught of sensation. He knew he had to be inside his brother, he couldn't miss this chance to claim him from the inside, to bury himself so deep inside him that he couldn't be forgotten no matter how far apart. He tried not to analyze that thought too deeply as he made a move to flip them again. Sam went with it, his breath raspy and his cheeks red. Dean almost resisted the urge to lean down and press his lips to his cheekbones, almost. He was quickly realizing his favorite shade of flushed Sam was lust addled. He slid out of the other man's hand and down the bed, he momentarily felt bad as he didn't prepare for this. He frowned, his thoughts must have shown on his face because Sam directed his own hand down to the entry point of his body. His fingers circled the muscle and Dean felt his whole mouth go dry at the image of his brother sliding his fingers into his body in front of him, shameless and dirty, he forced himself to swallow the whimper that was crawling up his throat.

Sam bucked his hips a little, spread his impossibly-long legs wantonly as his other hand coming up to circle his erection, just barely touching it. Dean knew he should help, wanted to help, but was stuck, he couldn't move as he watched as his brother prepare himself. Sam flung his head back, a strangled moan escaping him as he hit his prostate and stroked himself at the same time. Dean had been tortured before, had tortured before, but this, this might be enough to break him. He knew he couldn't wait another minute to be inside and just as Sam eased his own fingers out, Dean was spitting on his hand to lubricate his dick, it wouldn't be enough he knew, but it might help. Sam looked at him with eyes that were almost all pupil from lust and Dean moved forward to line himself up, then was pushing in the tight, heat of the body below him. He couldn't stop this groan, louder than he meant, he had to close his eyes because it was all too much, Sam was making small uncomfortable noises under him and he was trying to go as slowly as possible but it was hard and his arms were shaking from the exertion of keeping himself from just thrusting forward and damning the consequences. But he couldn't do that, he had to make this good for Sam, had too. He kept pushing until he was seated completely in the heat, his head bowed and jaw slack.

He was trying not to move but his dick would twitch inside the other, impatient and needy. Sam moved his hips slowly, an invitation which Dean didn't need telling twice. He pulled back out only to slide back in, the pace slower than he would have liked but he kept his pace until Sam's whispered sounds of discomfort transformed into throat deep noises of pleasure. He looked down at his brother and reached out to lace their fingers together, it was a shockingly intimate gesture considering the almost violent passion of their evening but they each had a lazy smile for the other when they both opened their eyes. Sam nodded and Dean began to pick up the pace, slamming into him at an almost painful pace. Sam's shouts were muffled by sloppy kisses that were half on lips, both panting too hard to completely kiss. Dean leaned back on his heels, bringing Sam with him so he was sitting in his lap. Sam's head lulled to one side, a fucked-out look on his pretty face, but he began to ride his brother, slow at first then gripping his shoulders to ground himself as Dean sucked more vicious marks into any skin he could reach. He could feel his orgasm building low in his belly and reached between them to wrap Sam in his warm hand and began jerking him in time to the down thrusts of his brother. Sam's head lulled backwards, prayers in Latin on his lips as he came on Dean's chest. Dean smiled as he thrust hard up into his brother's welcoming body as it rode out his orgasm. As he came, he squeezed his eyes shut, moisture on his lashes that he'd swear to every god there was that it was sweat. He gave half choked sound as the world went white.

When he came back to a second later, Sam was still in his lap, blissed out and fucked out. His long limbs boneless as Dean laid him gingerly back on the bed. His chest covered in scratches he didn't remember bestowing and spotted with teeth marks, hickeys and Dean's own blood from his lip. Sam made a distressed noise as Dean pulled out of him as carefully as he could now that his blood was running a mite cooler. He stood, his legs unsteady below him as he made his way to the bathroom to clean himself up before returning to Sam who had dozed off in the minutes he was gone. Dean couldn't help his smile as he watched his little brother, he reached out to brush hair from his face before cleaning up his lower body. He liked his blood and saliva marking Sam's chest so he left it. He leaned down to kiss his lips and felt a renewed protectiveness surge in him. Dean straightened up, then got dressed. He crept around the room, salt lining the windows and doors, so Sam could sleep peacefully. Then he picked up the Impala keys and cast one last, loving, look at Sam, squared his shoulders and walked out of the room easing the door closed silently behind him. In the pre-dawn air, he felt his legs even out under him as he slid into his car, turned the key and looked once more at their room before speeding to the California state-line with an almost painful grin on his lips.


End file.
